For the Duck
by Saharra Shadow
Summary: Vance makes a move in his game for power that costs him the very people he's attempting to control. Slash Gibbs/Ducky, Tony/?
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: For the Duck Part 1  
**Author**: Saharra Shadow (Nightshadow_t2, Nightshadow3)

**Email**: nightwing_

**Disclaimer:** Except for the orig characters they're not mine, but they did join me for a play date.

**Character(s)**: Dr. Donald Mallard, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Anthony Dinozzo, Abby Sciuto, Jimmy Palmer, Ziva Davd, Timothy McGee, Leon Vance, and mentions NCIS LA team, specifically Agent Clara Macy and G (_I dubbed him Garrett for the purposes of this fic and any subsequent stories_) Callan

**Named Original Characters:** Agent Alec Frenz, Sharon Shrise, Chris, and Phina.

**Pairings:** Gibbs/Ducky, Tony/??  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Word-count**: 7,632/18,091 words.

**Warnings**: Slash. This is my first fic in over 6 yrs and my first NCIS fic. I don't cast a favorable light on Vance's character. Beyond that it's full of touching, fluffy scenes.

**Summary**: Vance makes a move in his game for power that costs him the very people he's attempting to control.

**Beta(s)**: Slash4femme with characters and completion. Deathangelgw for grammar and Ladylunas for a reality check.

**NCIS_Ficathon Recipient: ****nakeisha**

**  
Request:** Gibbs/Ducky established relationship. Ducky is forced by the Director to retire and Gibbs decides to retire at the same time and the team decides to throw them a surprise party. No conflict or angst between them, only external and then only a minimal amount - ideally I'd like a nice fluffy, gentle story. Love and affection. Kisses, looks, touches are good. Friendship. Highest rating for sex: PG-13. For me the sex isn't important, the loving, kissing is. Must have a happy ending. Must not contain any food/sex play, i.e. no smearing jam over one another. No BDSM, partner rape, partner beating, in fact it should be kink free, please.

**Archiving:** Sure! Just drop me a note, so I know where it wandered off to.

**Author Notes**: Most of my story occurs during off-screen times between and during episodes. I adored writing Gibbs and Ducky and creating their little family. Because I want to be able to continue playing in this verse, I made Ducky closer to the age he looks. I got Gibbs age through Wikipedia. I have multiple little side-fics that are currently in the hatching process. One looks to be a sequel to this story with a Tony focus. There's also a few small plot dragons gambling about involving Abby, Jimmy, and Callan. Not as pairings to each other. Just as the center of their own story.

**Spoilers:** My story refers to heavily to "Broken Bird" and "Knockout" with mentions of events that occurred at the beginning of Season 6 and previous seasons. I use "Hide n Seek", "Dead Reckoning", "Toxic", and "Legend 1 & 2".

*~*~* **marks scene breaks.**

Part 1

Agent Frenz ducked to the side and headed towards the stairs as he heard the door guards greet Agent Gibbs and Dr. Mallard. The walk would do him some good and it was a well-known fact that Gibbs was touchy about anyone besides his team coming into close contact with the coroner since the stabbing incident. It wasn't worth the pound of flesh the agent would collect, metaphorical or otherwise. One of the second floor secretaries, a graduate student intern turned employee if he remembered correctly, fast-walked away from the elevator and joined him in the stairwell as she slipped inside just before the door closed.

"Not going to chance it, then?" Frenz winked. He didn't know anyone who would.

She grinned and lifted one hand from her stack of files to sweep back the braid that had fallen over her shoulder. "Nah. Over-protective alpha is sweet from a distance or as the one under the protection. We outsiders should mind our place."

Fidgeting a moment, Frenz nodded to himself before reaching out towards the files. "You don't find it odd then? The…" He trailed off while waving his hand about, trying to grasp what he meant and missing.

Laughing, she shook her head and dumped the stack of files into his waiting arms. "I'll take you up on the offer of help and say why if..." She paused and pointed at the stairs. "We start walking. I'm not being late over office talk."

"Scuttlebutt you mean." He tucked the files under his arm and turned to the stairs, taking the outside track.

"Gossip is repeating things," she hissed, stressing the soft syllables of the word. "Talk is your own recollections and assessments of something. If you want the gossip, then go find Laura and give me back my files."

Frowning, Frenz raised his free hand as if to say 'not me' and stepped back further into the offside. "Explanation accepted and I'll take your talking over what's her name's gossip, if I might."

"Oh, good. And you may, but first...names." Raising a hand, she wiggled her fingers in the parody of a wave. "Sharon Shrise."

Waving his own already raised hand, Frenz nodded. "Alec Frenz."

"Pleasure to meet you Frenz, and as to all that..." She motioned towards the bottom of the stairwell. "I think it's sweet. Reminds me of my Papa. He was a Navy man too and no one and nothing he didn't trust got within distance of those he saw as his, blood or not. He wouldn't have to say a word. He'd just get this look in his eye and take this stance that seemed to warn off everyone who was bothering what was his. And gods forbid one of us actually gets hurt. We're wrapped in cotton and stuffed in a padded box for _weeks_, metaphorically of course." She chuckled while shaking her head. "Have to bite my lip to keep from giggling every time I see them come in, especially since the whole Incident."

He nodded. "Guess I could look at it that way. Makes sense. I suppose I've been listening to too much gossip." He winked and mimicked the way she'd stressed the word.

"We talkers aren't too keen on gossipers." She laughed, smiling. "And this is my landing, so hand over those files. It's been ever so kind of you to walk me up." Her lips twitched as a smirk threatened. "But we both have work to do and my boss is an old stickler about anything he sees as feminine and helpful men count unfortunately."

Frenz handed over the files with a mock of a bow. "I hope coffee breaks aren't included in this?"

Sharon scoffed. "Of course not. It's the government. They practically write it in our contracts."

"Then I'll look forward to seeing you here at one." And with a last wave and smile, he ducked through the doors and headed towards his own office space.

Chuckling, Sharon headed for her desk and the rest of her waiting paperwork. The date she seemed to have stumbled into would be a welcome reprieve.

*~*~*

Ducky clucked softly as he saw first a younger agent and then one of the office staff dodge the elevator and turn towards the stairs at the mere and overly loud mention of Jethro and his name by the guard. Truthfully, the young fellow wasn't being all that subtle in his warnings, but then considering the last staff member who'd made the mistake of joining them for a ride had left in tears, it wasn't all that surprising. The poor boy. His questions had been intrusive, yes, but they'd been fueled more by curiosity than ill intent. A fact that hadn't saved him from Leroy's wrath.

A warm, heavy hand came to rest on his shoulder and propelled him forward.

"You okay, Ducky?"

"Of course, Jethro. I was just noting how the elevator remains miraculously clear for our morning arrival."

"Smart people, Duck. Smart people." Smirking, Gibbs strode forward, guiding them both into the elevator.

Once the door had slid shut, Ducky raised his own hand and laid it atop the one resting on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Really though, Leroy, it's been weeks. I don't believe anyone would dare chance your wrath to ask me about any of it. Especially after that one lad."

"I know." Stepping forward, Lee hit the emergency stop button, claiming his conference room. "Donald, I don't need to warn them off anymore." He smirked and tightened his grip. "But they're trained now. Why shouldn't I take advantage of that and keep our mornings?" He pressed forward, moving into the older man's space. "I thought you did as well?"

Raising his free hand, Don lightly stroked Lee's neck before cupping his cheek. "Uncertainty, feigned as it is, doesn't become you, my dear."

Smirk widening into a full-fledged grin, Lee crowded closer, claiming a kiss. His hand moved from Don's shoulder to his waist as Don moved to grip the back of his neck. Their grips were hard, just shy of bruising, a counterpoint to the gentleness of the kiss. They backed it off slowly, ending the kiss by degrees as they remained tightly in each other's hold.

Resting his forehead against Lee's shoulder, Don sighed quietly, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "I deem myself convinced of the benefits of that second 'B' you utilize so well."

"That's what I thought."

"Self-assurance, Leroy, is much preferred to an exhibit of smugness this morning," admonished Don, but any censure was ruined by the amusement edging his voice.

"Is there any difference, Donald?" Shifting backwards, Leroy released his grip with a last squeeze and pressed a quick kiss to his lover's forehead as Don released his hold as well. A light smack to the switch and the elevator was once more operational and headed to autopsy.

"Some days, Lee, I'm not so sure." The ding of the elevator as it stopped had him brushing lightly at his shirt and righting the lay of his jacket. Patting his companion on the cheek, Don left the elevator with his normal smooth stride. "I expect I'll be seeing you for lunch, Jethro, if something doesn't come up, that is."

"Of course, Ducky." With a wave and a flash of a smile, NCIS' top agent hit the button for his floor, keeping a watch on the retreating figure until the doors slid closed.

*~*~*

Peeling off his jacket, Ducky hung it up on the coat rack with his hat and pulled on his white, lab coat. His hands automatically smoothed down its sides as he wandered about the lab flicking on lights, fixing the placement of tools, and checking to see if he'd acquired any new occupants in his absence. A quick glance at the clock showed he should have at least another half-hour before Mr. Palmer arrived. He smiled. Lee had been much better lately about coming into work at a more normal hour in order to remain home a bit longer. Not that the children, except possibly Tony, had caught on yet. Then again, their dear boy had the horrible habit of being just as obsessed as Jethro when it came to work. A fact which had been reassuring once they had gotten him off of the alcohol. He'd been a right brat when he had come back from that little escapade shipside. The lack of intriguing work had been as dangerous to their boy as the isolation. His bitterness at and lack of connection to the other children outside of Abby was still a concern. Eventually though he would be able to reassert himself and his work demeanor should straighten out. Either that or Jethro would bring him down for a talk. His patience could only hold out for so long.

Scratching at his chin, Ducky abandoned his worries for another time. He should just be able to finish checking the office emails before Mr. Palmer arrived. Booting up the system, he typed in his id and password and clicked on the icon Timothy had set up for him. Unlike his lover, he could have managed finding it on his own without threatening violence, but it was still sweet of the boy to set it up for him.

Deleting the random spam mails that seemed to pass through the system for some reason, he turned his attention to the actual mail. An office baby shower for one of the secretaries, new minor policies that didn't affect his work, and notices from various agents were quickly dealt with and either logged in the appropriate file or deleted. An email from his protégé's university alerted him to the fact that Mr. Palmer would be up for graduation by the end of the summer. He'd have to start looking for job postings for the boy. Of course it would be nice if he remained, but the newest of their children shouldn't be left thinking that they were his only option. Mr. Palmer could do quite well for himself at any posting he chose. Jotting a quick note to Jethro about the upcoming event for one of theirs, he hit send before returning to the rest of the mail.

Older new messages had scrolled up as the others were deleted and moved. One from the Director's office bore a red flag, marking it as urgent. Clicking it open, Ducky scanned through it and his mouth twisted into a frown. The more he read, the more pronounced the wrinkles of his brow became. A shiver ran through him as he closed out the mail program, his thoughts still tied up in Director Vance's letter. The tone had been too sharp and the length too great for the congenial meeting that was supposedly wanted. The Director had an agenda, one that he didn't want proof of. Shaking his head, Ducky pushed away from the desk and headed towards the door. Or possibly he was simply too paranoid after what had happened. Pausing in the entryway, he looked back at the desk and then again towards the elevator. It shouldn't be needed. It'd be feeding his residual paranoia from the meeting, but it couldn't hurt and it'd be recorded over at the next autopsy. Releasing his grip on the door, he strode back over to his desk and yanked out the recorder he used for autopsies and tucked it into a jacket pocket after turning it on. It would surely prove unnecessary.

*~*~*

Hearing the elevator, Tony tucked his book under his paperwork, figuring it would be Gibbs and his coffee. Despite its historical nature, the book wouldn't count as work. It wasn't even six, which meant too early for the others to be there without an active case. Ziva was most likely on the tail-end of her morning jog and McGee was probably leading his troops into digital battle.

"And what has you so amused, my boy?"

"No Gibbs, Ducky?"

"At the moment, no. I imagine he's still in line at the coffee shop…getting his second in-store refill," responded the older man, amusement couched in the wry tone. "And your entertainment this morning?"

Shifting his stack of papers, Tony revealed the title, "The Ultimate Sex Book."

Frowning, Ducky shook his head, his voice strained. "_Anthony._ The real one, if you please."

Ducking his head with a shy smile, Tony peeled back the dust cover and revealed the real title, 'Profiling Violent Crimes: An Investigative Tool.'

"An admirable choice. I'll see if we can't come up with some others to supplement it." Perching on the edge of the desk, Ducky watched his and Jethro's protégé trail his hand down the false cover. "This won't help your situation with the others."

"They wouldn't believe the truth of me anyway."

"You're not giving them the choice to. It's a disservice to the team, my—" A bitter laugh interrupted him. Laying a hand on Tony's shoulder, Ducky squeezed lightly before continuing. "As I was saying, it's also a great disservice to you and your ability, my boy. One, Jethro won't put up with for much longer. Keep the mask if you must, but at least re-craft it so it doesn't bury your own contributions and ability. I dare say, things would improve if you did."

With a last pat, he pushed off the desk and turned for the stairs. "She's not a threat to your place, Tony. Not with us."

An easing of the tense shoulders and a slight smile were the elder's reward for the soft-spoken, reassurance. "We on for a Saturday family dinner this week, Ducky? Work allowing anyway."

"Of course. Jethro can knock some rust off the grill." The resident mother-hen of their group paused before adding, "And a team dinner later in the month, which you'll attend."

Tony's mouth firmed, a static line of displeasure before he shrugged and settled with a half-smile that conveyed his surrender. "Fine and I'll let Abby and Jimmy know about Saturday."

Ducky tipped his chin. "And I'll inform, Jethro."

*~*~*

A sharp 'Come in' answered Ducky's light tap on the door. Stepping into the room, he calmly watched the NCIS Director. There was a sense of unease to the man. He was looking to the side instead of holding to his normal direct manner. Their conversation, if Director Vance was any indication, was not to be a pleasant one. Patting lightly at his pockets, Ducky arranged himself in the chair placed directly in front of the desk and settled in to wait. "Good morning, Director."

"Dr. Mallard." Vance shifted in his seat, angling his body towards the side wall and away from his memorabilia. His toothpick wiggled up and down as he played with it. Finally, he settled and stillness fell on the room. "There have been some concerns voiced over the debacle with your old acquaintance."

"I thought those had been addressed when the young lady had dropped her charges."

Vance nodded while his fingers rose to tap his chin. "Those had, but it has since come to my attention that there are other issues stemming from the investigation itself. They're drawing attention to our department, negative attention we don't need nor want. It could come to interfere with our business and that above all is why I asked you here."

"And what issues might cause such interference?"

Folding his hands together atop his desk, Vance straightened in his seat, giving Ducky his full attention. "Questions, Dr. Mallard. Questions about our ability to watch our own. You're not the first NCIS Agent in this very building to be accused of murder. It's an embarrassment to this agency, to us all." _To me_ hung in the air between them. Vance allowed the silence to play out before continuing. "The integrity of our agents, especially those who acted in this instance is being called into question. This was not a case, Dr. Mallard. It was an exercise in obsession and impatience. Neither of which, despite the positive outcome, are conducive to our cause."

"Is not the truth our cause?" Ducky interjected quietly. These 'questions' as Vance called them weren't the issue. It was control and a lack of it that guided this little tete-tat.

"Whatever is necessary to succeed in the goals set before us is our cause, Dr. Mallard. We each have our parts to play in that goal."

"Ah, I assume this is when you tell me mine. You know, Leon, this rather reminds me of an instance during my first internship when a young boy was brought in after tangling with a pair of escaped—" _goats_, he finished silently before giving the rest of his attention to Leon.

"Ducky-Dr. Mallard. That's not the point at issue here." Leaning forward, Leon shaped his face into a mock-up of sympathy. "It is believed that at this point, your tenure as an employee is no longer beneficial to this agency."

A breathy inhalation and sudden tightening of Ducky's shoulders as he stiffened his back and assumed a formal posture gave away his reaction to the insinuation of that statement. "I must assume then that I shall find my employment has been terminated."

"No!" A sharp shake of the Director's head answered his statement before a quieter, "No."

Sharp eyes watched the man before them. It wasn't a lie. But it wasn't the entirety of the answer, either. He could nearly see the words crowding behind Leon's tight clench on his toothpick. It would snap if held in much longer. But no, the release was there.

"You're records indicate that you're eligible for full retirement with all the expected benefits. It would be a waste to deny you of that when a simple set of completed forms can set things to right. It'll give you a chance to have a life outside Gibbs and his whims." A smile rolled across the director's mouth, dragging the toothpick into an upward twist.

Folding his hands in his lap, Ducky met that gaze and its salesman's smile head on. He held it and the silence until with a nod, "And when would these completed forms be due?"

"I believe April 30th would make a sufficient deadline. It would give us a chance to look into a replacement. Dr. Hampton might be suitable."

"Yes, yes. Dr. Gerald Jackson should prove sufficient as well." Pushing himself up from his chair, Ducky turned toward the door, avoiding the hand that had started to rise as if to offer a shake to seal the deal. Salesman indeed. "I assume you're prepared for the inevitable fall out?"

"I'd prefer the situation remain quiet until closer to the deadline."

Pausing in the doorway, Ducky nodded. Contrary to Leon's opinion, he and his were marvelous at subtle. But then, Leon seemed to have forgotten that it was when acting subtly that the danger was greatest.

*~*~*

Stumbling as he came off of the stairs, Ducky kept his focus on the elevator. Leroy wasn't back yet. Fifteen minutes were all that had been lost and yet, so soon were their mornings passed with watching Lee 'reinforce his training' of the staff. The quick checks on days they'd worked a little too long or the quiet companionship as he uncovered the story of his latest visitor. Anthony coming to him with his scrapes and bruises from the job were interspersed with chats with Abby about her latest band and the anomalies and puzzles of a case. Mr. Palmer's shy inquiries and answers doled out like small gifts carefully wrapped and tended to...they would be gone, wiped from his days. Just the wait and the silence of an empty house.

A lowered voice speaking sharply drew his attention. Slowly he became aware of the arm around his waist, supporting him and the words that had pulled him back. Gibbs. They were talking to Lee. A clack as the phone was flipped closed and then worried green eyes peering down at him.

"You with me, Ducky? Donald, are you with me?"

"Yes. Of course, Anthony."

"Good. Then we should get to the conference room. The boss'll be here soon and he'll want us there. This, whatever it is, is better there. Right, Ducky?"

"Really, Anthony, I'm fine." Donald patted his son's shoulder.

"Like I'll fall for that one, Ducky. I tried for nearly five minutes to get you to respond. And that was before I called Gibbs." Punching the button, Tony smirked. "And we've been walking since you spoke and you still haven't noticed. We're waiting for the boss in his conference room."

A shudder moved up Ducky's spine as he stepped into the, no _Gibbs',_ conference room. Soon he would have no claim to any of this. "Really, Anthony, we don't need to commandeer the elevator for this. It's just…" How to explain? This wasn't a story to make the children roll their eyes and skedaddle from the room. It was now.

"Oh, we're definitely waiting here for Gibbs. You're still drifting on me. I'd prefer not to forfeit my life today and your 'Lee' would make sure of it if I let you go off on your own." Tony tightened his grip in a half-hug. "The elevator's already moving, Ducky. We're nearly to the entry level."

The sharp ping of the sound system called their attention to the slowly opening doors and the stormy figure outside it. Nodding, Tony gratefully surrendered his position to Lee as the doors snicked closed while whispering as they switched places. "He was fine and then he had a meeting with Vance." A sneer fell into place as he clenched his fists. "This was the result." He jerked his head towards the entrance. "I'll take the stairs back up. Fill me in, boss?"

A jerky nod answered him. Grinning, Tony gave a scout's salute and slipped out the opening doors. He'd pay for it later, but it was worth it to see the little twitch of the lips that broke through the angry-worry of the situation.

Slamming the emergency stop button, Lee turned to Don and pulled him into the lee of his side. "Donald." He rested his chin atop his lover's bowed head and waited.

Eventually the soft rustle of cloth broke the welcome silence as a digital voice recorder was held out. Plucking it from the shaking hand, Lee firmly caressed the back of the appendage with his thumb. He engaged the playback with a sure touch. He'd done this often enough for Don when he was busy. It wasn't any harder now. Just more important.

Fast forwarding through the walk up to the pen, he listened to the bit with Tony and pressed a kiss to Don's cheek when he reached the part of their boy's chastisement. He'd learn. The ease and comfort of the situation was lost however as the door to Vance's office clicked closed and Leroy found himself privy to the 'conference.' The longer it went, the tighter his grip on his lover. He knew Don would have bruises come the afternoon, but Leroy had no intention of letting go. His Donald wasn't a piece in the game between him and Vance. Vance didn't get to change the rules and he certainly didn't get to break them.

"Forced retirement?"

"Yes."

A soft, short confirmation that was nothing like his Donald. Nodding, Lee rubbed his cheek against the silvered hair it rested on. "So, you finally going to give in and build that boat with me?"

"What!"

The swiftly raised head that followed the exclamation knocked Lee's chin, making his eyes water for a moment. "What?" he asked gruffly.

Trembling hands rose to cradle silver-haired lover's face. "I dare say that's awfully close to a proposal coming from you, Leroy."

"And if it was?"

"Then I accept, so long as you tell me how we're going to get it out of the basement.

"Power-operated door in the back wall," Lee rumbled, laughter filling the air between them as Don pulled him into a well-earned kiss.

*~*~*

Trotting up the stairs, Tony flipped open his phone and tapped Abby's button on the speed dial. Stopping midway up the flight, he waited while the phone rang. An exuberant exclamation of his name and raucous music answered.

"Tony!"

"Abby!" he returned, a smile finding purchase despite their situation.

"What's up? Not a case."

"Nah, Abbs. Wish it was."

"Tony? What's wrong?

Closing his eyes, Tony sighed. He knew that tone, the creases it would bring to her brow and the downturn of her lips. She was worried and he was about to make it worse. "Our Donald had a meeting with Vance. He was fine beforehand, but afterwards… It was like the stabbing all over again. He just wasn't bleeding."

"Tony! What happened?"

Wincing, the brunet moved the phone away from his ear. His sister could really squeal. "I don't know. Not really. I got Donald to his Lee and then I left. Jethro said he'd tell me later at the coffee shop."

"Well, you'd better call me and Jimmy as soon as you find out. Do you think Jethro will call Garrett?"

"Probably. The whole long distance foster son thing." Tony waved his hand for emphasis to an invisible audience. "And I'll do you one better. We'll do a musketeers' meet at Jimmy's after work?"

"I'll let him know we're having a meeting. How long do you think Jethro and Donald will be?"

"A while, I'd guess. At least a good twenty minutes. Ducky was really out of it and Jethro won't let him out from under his watch till he's satisfied."

"Good. Jimmy will have time to get back then."

"_Abby_ what are you planning?"

"I'm not planning anything, Tony. I'm hosting tea. And you, mister, will come drink your cup after you put Ziva and Tim on watchdog duty upstairs to make sure it's not interrupted, even by Ziva and Tim. This is a family thing. Got me?"

Growling softly, Tony rubbed at his forehead. He could see her now. One finger pointing emphatically at the speakerphone while the other gestured in time with her words. "And if someone heads that way, what are they supposed to do? Clock them one? Because Ziva at least, probably would."

"Of course not. Don't be silly Tony. I'll do that...if it's Vance. They'll just stall. Now to work, my servant!"

"Yes, Master. Of course master. As you wish—"

"Quit it, Igor, and go brief the troops" came the snappy reply over the phone.

The click of the phone hanging up answered his laughter. Shaking his head, Tony grinned. Vance's life would be hell if he got in Abby's way today. No one hurt their Donald.

*~*~*

One hand in the center of Don's back, Jethro guided him out of the open doors of the elevator and into the corridor that led to the morgue. Voices inside the morgue caught their attention and they paused outside to listen.

"Is that tea right? You know he takes it proper, Tony."

"I got it, Abbs. Just finish Jethro's and leave me to Donald's."

"Abby!"

"What, Jimmy?"

"Abby, come here. I got the Pims, raspberry and strawberry. But I also got digestives. They sounded comforting. Does this look all right? I left the rest in the bags. I didn't want to crowd out the tea. I mean, the tea's the point, isn't it?"

A thump and a muffled ow greeted that statement.

"Abby, leave Jimmy alone. And Jimmy, what Abby meant to say with that little love tap was that family, as she so emphatically lectured while you were off buying biscuits, is the point."

Another thump. "Abby! Quit it! I'll spill the tea!"

"Well you deserved it. And don't you dare put sugar in that tea."

Laughing softly, Don leaned into Lee. "It appears we've been offered succor."

Resting a cheek against the soft hair, Lee laughed. "Entertainment more like, Don."

"Well, yes." Lightly patting Lee's cheek, Don pulled away and grasped the handle just as Tony began his answer.

"I'm not. It's going—" The snick of the door handle as the mechanism released and it swung open interrupted him. All three looked up to see the guests of honor in the doorway.

"—on the table," Tony finished with a sheepish smile and a wave for the two.

Abby spun away from the table and ran forwards to grab the two in a hug. "You're here! And just in time for hot tea!" She smiled up at Jethro. "Your timing's still perfect. We didn't have to reheat anything. Come on. Sit. Sit." Grabbing one hand from each, she dragged them over to the table and chairs the three of them had set up.

Smiling, Jimmy pulled out two of the chairs while Tony sat one cup of perfectly steeped Earl Grey in front of the seat Abby had pushed Donald into and an Abby-prepared cup of Black Tea in front of Jethro.

Jethro watched the three of them with an indulgent smirk, while Donald offered a heartfelt smile to each of his three 'children'.

"And what brought this on, my dears?"

Abby wrinkled her nose. "Tony called and said you needed cheering, so as musketeers must, we undertook our mission and hosted an early morning tea party. Ziva and McGee are playing guards and keeping everybody out so we can have our tea in peace." She looked away from Ducky and mock-glared at Jethro. "And, Jethro, you are drinking Tea. Not coffee."

Sharing a look, Jimmy and Tony muffled their snickers at the discomfited look on Jethro's face. He was not a tea man. But for his 'darling little girl' he'd stomach it…and hoard the raspberry Pims.

Smiling, Donald handed Leroy three of the raspberry Pims. "Eat them with your tea, Lee, and you'll get through it."

Peering over his own cup, Jimmy offered his own encouragement. "Yeah. Plus Abby made yours with twice the normal amount. That should help." The sour look he got in return only widened his smile.

Joining in on the teasing, Tony held out one of the chocolate covered biscuits. "Digestive? Wouldn't want to unsettle your stomach with something so foreign as tea."

Abby reached around from her position in between Jimmy and Donald and smacked him hard. "_Tony!_"

Warm, rich laughter from Donald pulled the trio's attention from their bickering. Smiling broadly, they watched as Donald put down his tea and dabbed at his eyes with a napkin, he was laughing so hard. Jethro gave them a subtle thumb up as he watched his lover relax back into the easy, light mood he'd had earlier in the day.

Munching on their strawberry Pims, the three sat back in their chairs satisfied. Mission accomplished.

*~*~*

Ducking through the door of Gibbs chosen coffee shop, Tony loosened his shirt collar. Ziva and McGee had arrived by the time Gibbs had exited the elevator and stalked to his desk. The only answer his raised eyebrow had gotten was a raised coffee cup and a barked out 'Dinozzo' that sent him diving back into the cold case he'd pulled. Catching sight of the tale-tell silver hair, he raised his hand in a slight wave before heading to the counter to get his own drink.

The waitress offered a quick smile as his turn came up before signaling to an older woman that she should come over. She sashayed into place before the register while calling the last bits of her instructions to the boy she'd been dressing down before he arrived.

"Thanks, Terri." A nod and a shooing motion sent the younger gal off to a new station before the waitress turned back to him. "Afternoon, Tony. Figured you'd be here since Grumbles claimed one of my booths. Food or drink today?"

Tipping an imaginary hat, the green-eyed agent laughed. That was their Phina. She'd been there since before Tony had been with Gibbs. Back then she'd been just a waitress, but she'd saved his butt on a regular basis with the coffee scale she'd developed strictly for Gibbs or Grumbles as she called him to his face and his back. Once Phina'd gotten her hands on him and by extension, Gibbs, the mornings where he'd be in there explaining that he needed this specific combination of qualities to appease the beast, so to speak, had been a gladly lost and forgotten moment in time. They'd sat in a booth one day after her shift when he was just plain pissed and she was just plain frustrated about Gibbs and his damn coffee. And that's when they'd done it. He'd described Gibbs' various moods and she'd come up with the coffee combos. Together they'd built what had come to be called 'The Cop's Menu'. Instead of fancy names, it had coffees for situations: Bad Ass Case, Stakeout, Eluding Capture, Anomalies, Unsolved, and so on. It'd eventually become a staple of the shop that had netted her the management position and him his sanity.

"I'll have a double 'No Time to Eat'. Green tea, chocolate, and protein...covers all the bases for the day."

Frowning, Phina shook her finger under his nose. "And how many meals is this making up for?"

Offering a broad smile, Tony ducked his head sheepishly. "Not that many, Phina. Just lunch and maybe dinner, depending on what's up."

"You and that boss of yours. If I thought it'd do any good, I'd dump the both of you in a health class and bar the door."

"I'm pretty sure there'd be no door if you did. Just a bunch of holes and some terrified health nuts."

"Humph." Looking over her shoulder, she snapped her fingers at the boy she'd been addressing earlier. "Triple no time to eat and tomato basil soup, Chris. Goes to the back booth."

"Awww, Phina. I woulda been fine without the soup."

"But would you stay that way if I didn't keep at ya?" Phina grinned and tucked a strand of silver hair into her graying bun. "Now gimme my money and skedaddle over to Grumbles. He's glaring again."

Tossing a ten on the counter, Tony gave a teasing half-bow. "Will do. You take care and tell those grandbrats of yours I'll see 'em at the next practice game."

Weaving through the crowd of cops that was quickly filing in, Tony picked his way across the room. A quick wave in Gibbs' direction kept those who knew him from starting anything beyond a 'good to see ya' exchange. Slipping into the faux leather booth, he ran his fingers along the marked wooden table top. Good seats and tables with history. Everything a coffee-diner needed.

"So, what'd you get today?"

Grunting Gibbs raised the cup to his lips and took a gulp. "Manipulative Bastards."

"Ouch" Tony winced and scowled, dragging his finger down a groove in the table. "I'm guessing that's the phrase of the day."

Slamming his cup onto the table with enough force to pop the top, Gibbs tossed the recorder he'd kept hold of at Tony and a set of earphones. "Hit play."

Gaze roaming, Tony took in the pinched features and almost snarl that was barely contained. He was all Boss right now. Family would come later. He eyed the recorder and the information it held. "You tell Garrett?"

"Not yet. He's out."

Translated that meant out of contact and undercover. Curiosity satisfied, Tony pushed the play button and listened to the confrontation. Meeting his ass. This had been a setup. For them...their team. So lost in picking apart the so-called meeting with rewinding back to certain parts, like the question of integrity which was more applicable to Vance than any of them, Tony didn't realize that he'd dug his nails into the wood or that a wary Chris was trying to deliver his order. A sharp thwap to the head had him jerking out the earphones and swallowing a gasp as he raised a hand to rub the back of his head.

"Hard enough there, Jethro?"

"Food's here."

"Oh." Offering an apologetic smile complete with widened eyes, Tony took his drink and soup from the boy. "Thanks, Chris. Sorry 'bout that."

Waving a black-nailed hand, the spiky-haired hire shrugged it off. "No prob. Life's issues. You get pissed, eat, and move on. Solves it all."

Nodding, Tony served up a mouthful of soup as the youth padded off and back into the crowd. "Yeah, suppose so," he muttered.

Gibbs waited till Tony had reached the halfway point in the oversized bowl before knocking the edge with his coffee cup.

Looking up from his study of the rippling soup, Tony offered an edged smile and hard eyes. "He's playing a game. All or nothing." Another mouthful of soup and a sip of his drink before he nearly whispered, "What'd you choose?"

A grin crept across Gibbs' face, the satisfied one he saved for his people and something exceptionally good, like a morning with Don. "Nothing, for him," he drawled out. "I asked Don to live with me." He paused, a firm line replacing the smile. "I'm going to retire, Tony. And this time, I'm not coming back. I want our time." The last few words trailed off towards the end.

Patiently, Lee watched the effect those words had on his and Don's son. It was true a blood test would prove otherwise, but they'd been the ones to give him a place to settle in and applied guidance and discipline when necessary, both in and out of the office. It was their home he came to for the holidays and them he came to when he needed help he couldn't ask for.

When the alcohol issue had hit, Abby had been his optimism and Jimmy had been his confidant. Don had been the one to provide the firm, no-nonsense support that refused to let him get away with not taking responsibility for his alcohol problem. He'd stood on the stairs of the basement, glass of pineapple juice in hand while Lee had played his part and gave their boy a way to apologize and remember without being overly destructive. The broad scope of the boat hadn't been for him, but he'd taken the tools and the skills and had kept running with it to the point where both he and Don had been worried that he'd replaced one bad habit with another. Then Tony had found that piece of driftwood Jethro had tossed in a back corner under the stairs years back when Garrett had first given it to him.

A half-smile touched Lee's lips as he remembered the turning point for Tony. He'd come down to gather him for dinner or bully him into bed, depending on how much he'd worn himself out. Instead of a glassy-eyed and exhausted Tony, Jethro had found him sitting on the floor with his hands slowly running over the water-polished wood. He'd begun speaking as he'd stroked, pointing out the question in this line as he traced it with a fingertip, the mischief in that knob as he tapped it playfully, and the secret in this upturn as he cupped it with his hand. It had been a puzzle and the challenge of it had settled him like the control over the boat had settled Jethro. Donald had declared them a matched set when he'd come down to find them talking about the tools needed to answer the puzzle. Tony had given them that piece when he'd finished. The little girl with arms stretched wide as she danced on her wooden cliff rested on the center of the dresser in their bedroom at Lee's house.

And now, he was telling his boy that he'd be on his own with a team which he was still edgy with and a boss that he didn't trust farther than a tree could jump. Neither Jimmy nor Abby were field. They'd manage. Tony was the one he and Don were worried about leaving without someone watching their six.

The napkin that had been sitting next to his soup bowl was little more than snow by the time Tony looked up and met Lee's questioning gaze. His shoulders drew tight, but his voice was steady. "I don't want leadership of the team."

"Then what do you want, Anthony?"

Tony jerked back as one hand came down hard on the edge of his soup bowl and spilled some of what was left onto the table and his shirt-sleeve and jacket. Wiping at his clothes, he turned to glare at the man behind him, but the apologetic smile that confronted him ruined the attempt. "Dammit, Donald. You're sneakier than Jethro is."

Shrugging, Donald offered his handkerchief as he slipped into the booth next to Lee, smiling when it was taken and applied to the mess.

Shaking one mostly clean finger at his chuckling dinner companion, Tony ground out, "And you. You knew he was there."

Patting the hand that Lee had rested on the table when Don had joined him, the medical examiner turned his attention back to Tony, specifically his earlier statement. "I do believe you are correct in that assumption, but I believe, my dear boy, that the true issue at hand is what you want, since we now know what you don't."

The air of amusement that had danced between the occupants of the booth faded and a more somber atmosphere crowded in. Tony poked at his pile of paper snow, scattering some of the flakes into the spilled soup. He watched as they slowly bled from white to red. "I've had offers from other agencies. Even after what happened with Jenny." He paused and flicked more flakes into the soup. A quick look at the pair in front of him found acknowledgement of the facts and knowledge of what he was possibly suggesting. "I never took them up on it because I didn't need to. I belonged and losing that wasn't worth a bigger paycheck. With both of you gone and things like they are, I can't stay. I won't stay and become Leon's scapegoat. Right now I might not be, but I'm expendable to him. He's an entirely different breed of bastard. I'll be more comfortable and safer with my standard fare."

"Fornell."

Nodding, Tony slouched back into the comfort of the padded booth. "Yeah. His offer's still open."

"And you'll be taking it," prodded Donald.

"What with you and Jethro 'retiring', yeah. It'll keep me in DC. I've got more here than I could find anywhere else and I'm keeping it. Besides, it'll give me the chance to prod him into showing up at our dinners more often, so you and I can beat those two at cards."

Pushing back from the table, Leroy stared hard at his agent. He could do the job and do it well. If he cut the crap he'd been up to out. "Get your head on straight or I'll warn him off."

"What? Gibbs!" He shook his head to clear it. This wasn't a 'work' moment. Jethro..."

Crossing his arms, his voice hard, Jethro continued. "Don't bring your issues to work, Tony. You know better and I've been wrong in letting you get away with it. It hasn't overly affected the job...yet. But it could."

"I agree with Leroy, Tony. There soon may no longer be the chance of you ending up on my table, but I have no wish to bury you because of the job, much less a mistake on the job." Donald watched the tense form of their eldest before reaching out to grasp one clenched hand. "Dear child, you have nothing to prove."

Releasing a sigh, Tony rubbed at his forehead, his other hand relaxing under Donald's grip. "I know that, Donald. Doesn't make it seem less real."

Tony paused and turned away from the pair to watch the crowd. This he hadn't told them. He hadn't even told Abby, much less Jimmy. Maybe he should have. But it'd been something he'd needed to do. Kate would have been proud after ribbing him about it. Shrugging Tony half-smiled. He missed his bratty best friend. Still watching the shifts of the crowd, he started to speak. "Lee, I am dealing with it. On my own time. Carving helps. Family helps. But I wanted more. Or I needed it. Either way, I chose it. I come in later on Wednesdays because I have an off the books counseling session at 0500. She's a nice lady who detests bullshit. Says it ruins the office carpet." He smiled before adding sheepishly, "Wants me to drag you all in for a family session."

"When?" The rumble of Leroy Jethro Gibbs waltzed across the table. No censure or teasing. Just that bland acceptance that was both infuriating and a blessing, normally both at once. Now, he was just glad for it and the soft smile that Donald wore.

Shrugging, Tony eased his hand out from under Don's with a quick squeeze of thanks. "After all this is over. It can keep till then. We've got time."

"Time, yes." Don bobbed his head for a moment before the phrase caught up with him and he gasped, one hand rising up to his face. "Oh dear. Leroy, the time and the dogs!"

Laughing, Tony shooed them out of the booth. "Good luck tending the mongrel army."

"_Tony_."

Donald's chiding only made him smile wider.

Pausing, Don patted his shoulder. "Be sure to let us know when and we'll come."

Flicking a wave over his shoulder, Lee called out, "Bright and early tomorrow, Tony."

Shaking his head at Jethro's version of 'get to bed', Tony settled back in the booth to finish his drink and call his fellow musketeers. They had some planning to do.

*~*~*


	2. Chapter 2

**W****ord-count**: 5,174/18,091 words.

Part 2

Driving sedately, Lee followed along behind Don and his vintage unit as he turned onto the road of Don's neighborhood. Car hounds. They were a family of car hounds. Shaking his head, he secured the parking brake and got out. The howls and barks of the pack of corgi were perfectly discernible from the yard. And they weren't happy. They hadn't had a case, so they'd been spending their time at Donald's. They'd move them back to his place when a case hit. It was closer and Lee's neighbor's son didn't mind tending the dogs after school for a few bucks. It worked for them, the switch between the two houses. His during cases and Don's during downtime. But now—

A hand on his elbow and the call of his name broke through his thoughts. "Leroy?"

"Fine, Donald. Just thinking we're gonna have a lot of downtime soon."

"And where we spend it doesn't have to be decided tonight, this week, or even this month, but the dogs _do_ have to be tended, mi amant." Tucking his arm through Lee's, Don got them both up the stairs and braced for the confrontation with their welcoming committee. Shouting over the resulting whines, snarls, and barks that greeted their steps through the door, Donald waved towards the back. "Corral them outside with that stick you lot love and I'll fix their bowls."

Giving a mock salute, Lee stole a quick kiss before stalking to the back door, the exuberant corgis following along like a trail of ducklings.

Humming softly to himself, Ducky pulled down the cans of wet food from their cupboard and carefully measured the same amount into each bowl. Capping the extra half of a can, he tucked it in the fridge for the morning's treat. Slipping the child lock that kept the rollaway bin secure and the dry food safe, he gave each dog its cup and re-locked the bins. "And now for our dinner."

Leaving the bowls on the cabinet for Jethro as the Alpha dog to dish out, Ducky turned his attention to the refrigerator. Tonight was a night for comfort food. Poking through the bins, he pulled out some thick sliced ham, real butter, mayo, tomatoes, and imported British sharp cheddar. Tossing the lot on the counter, he pulled their loaf from the bread box and separated out six pieces. A sandwich and a half for each of them should do for their dinner . Buttering one side of each slice, he flipped them over and slathered on the mayo.

A skillet clattered onto the stove as a hand curled around his waist, startling him into dropping the butter knife mid-stroke. "Lee!"

"Yes?" The marine whispered while nipping at one ear.

"What have I told you about the kitchen?" Don ducked his head, hiding his smile. The reprimand would be useless if his lover saw it.

Laughing softly, Leroy flipped the stove on and set the pan to heat. "It's for eating, not playing."

"Correct." Leaning back against the sturdy frame behind him, the doctor turned his attention back to the bread. Three more slices needed mayo.

"Suppose it's a good thing I find your ear tasty." Lee pressed a brief kiss to the tip before moving on to the jaw. "And this." Another kiss, so soft as to be barely there.

Don's eyes closed as Lee's face came into view and he moved in for a kiss.

"And especially here." Blue eyes glinting mischievously, Lee stopped just before their lips touched, letting his breath caress the soft flesh. He smirked before shifting Don's weight into a better hold. "I believe you need this." He tapped the waiting lips with the edge of the clean butter knife and then held it out at eye level, waiting.

Scowling Don snatched it from his partner while letting the subsequent laughter roll through him. Leroy rather reminded him of a purring cat when he was like this. And for some reason the kitchen brought it out more than any other room in the house. Passing two completed sandwiches back, he moved onto the last while listening to the sizzle of the butter as Lee placed them in the hot pan. He reveled in the contented rumbles of a satisfied mate.

*~*~*

Settled in his corner of the couch, Jimmy joined Abby in staring down Tony as he sat hunched in the opposite corner of the couch. They had sodas. They'd opened their Three Musketeers' bars and he still wasn't talking.

With a huff, Abby tossed her silver wrapper at Tony from her perch on the old, blue-clothed lounger. It totally missed, but at least he looked up. Nodding, she crossed her arms and glared at him. "All right, mister. That's it. Start talking."

"Don't need to." Reaching into a pocket Tony held out the recorder Gibbs had left behind. Pulling out the headphones, he pushed play and waited.

"How could he!" Abby burst out when the discussion ended. "Donald didn't cause any of that! That...that bitch did!" Leaping from her chair, she stalked back and forth in front of the coffee table, hands shaking as she emphasized her points and mocked Vance's reasoning skills. Finally, she stopped while wrapping her arms around herself in a hug and sniffling slightly.

Pushing himself out of his own relaxed position on the couch, Jimmy walked over and pulled her into a hug before tugging lightly on one of the ever-present pigtails. A wet giggle answered him and together they sidled over to the couch and sat down with Abby taking the seat between him and Tony.

"Here, sis." Raising his arm, Tony let Abby curl up against him and use his shoulder as a pillow. Watching the pair with a soft smile, Jimmy cast a glance at the silent recorder. None of this had needed to happen, but it had. And now they all had to deal with it. "So what's the plan?"

"Huh?" Tony turned his attention away from Abby's quiet grumbles about the stupidity of the administration and its politics.

Sighing, Jimmy scowled at him. "The plan. Tony. The facts. You met with Donald and Jethro. You know what's going on."

Abby dug a sharp elbow into Tony's side. "Yeah, so spill. We and the others can't do anything till we know what's going on."

Tugging a pigtail in retaliation, Tony smiled sadly. "There's nothing for us or Ziva and McGee to do. Donald's retiring. And Jethro plans to go with him."

Abby jerked up, shouting, "They're leaving! But they can't leave! They can't, Tony, Jimmy! They're family and if they leave what'll we do? Who's going to glare at Jimmy's boyfriends and keep watch on you and there'd be no family and team dinners and when I have nightmares about that no good loser I wouldn't be able to sneak in and snuggle on the couch with the corgis! And Jethro won't whisper 'wake up, our darling little girl' and make sure I can get to the table without tripping so I can eat the pancakes Donald made me! And...and..."

Jimmy clapped a hand over her mouth to silence her and shared an amused smile over her head with Tony, both of them trying not to laugh. "Abby, let him finish. We don't have the whole story. An hour meeting with Jethro and Donald isn't told that quickly, all right?"

"Jimmy's right. They're leaving NCIS, not DC, and certainly not us. Okay? Can I finish now?" Tony met the anxious gaze of one of his closest friends. He snuck a quick look at Jimmy and amended that: the anxious gazes of both of his closest friends.

At the sharp, jerky nod, Jimmy removed his hand and tried to duck away from her return fist. He failed. "Abby! What was that for?"

"For laughing at me. I know you were."

"Maybe a little." Rubbing his shoulder, Jimmy pointed at Tony. "He was too."

Scrambling away from the incoming fist, Tony yelped as he tipped off the couch and hit the carpet. Abby and Jimmy just stared at the scowling figure before collapsing against each other as they laughed.

"Ha. Ha. Ha." Levering himself up off the floor, Tony grabbed the scarred wooden edge of the coffee table and leaned back against it so he was watching his comedic companions. "You two done?"

"Sure, Tony."

"Yep!"

"Gibbs and Ducky are retiring as our bosses, not our family. We're keeping Jethro and Donald. They have to have someone to boss around, nosy busybodies that they are." All three laughed at that. The two of them did have the tendency of wanting to know everything past, present, and future about their people's lives. It didn't mean that they always got that, but it came pretty close at times.

Relaxing back against the coffee table, Tony continued. "Jethro wants his time with Donald. He's tired of Vance's games, so he's removing himself from the board." Taking a deep breath, Tony stared at the two in front of him. They needed to know the rest of it. All of it. "And so am I. I'm taking up Fornell on his offer of a job. I'm not expendable and I refuse to put myself in a position where I could be made so."

Peering down at him, Abby pursed her lips. Jimmy just watched calmly, nodding. "And you'll be staying here."

"Since it's where Fornell is, yeah. I wouldn't do too good with leaving. We all know that." Tony shrugged lightly before turning his attention to the far wall. And this was just the beginning.

Prodding him with her foot, Abby asked the one question that mattered most in the scheme of things. "And you'll be okay there without us?"

"Between having you all outside that..." The senior field agent took a deep breath. She'd never said it would be this difficult. Telling Jethro and Donald had been easy compared to this. But it shouldn't be hard. They wouldn't care about the therapy...just the fact that he'd kept it secret. He huffed exasperatedly. That was what made it difficult. He'd kept it secret. And there'd been no need. "And my therapist, I'll be fine. May even have a new relationship to tell you about soon."

"You decided to go then?"

Staring at the smiling face of one Jimmy Palmer, Tony gaped. "You? You're the one who left those pamphlets in my mailbox?"

Shrugging, Jimmy rubbed at the back of his neck. "Abby did the research. I just collected them from the appropriate offices and made sure you got them."

Patting Jimmy on the shoulder, Abby offered him a bright smile before turning to Tony. "Actually, he came up with the idea."

Ducking his head, Tony offered the pair a fond smile. "Thanks. Both of you. Guess this means you'll both be coming to the family group session she wants to host?"

"You're welcome and of course."

"I'll be there with bells on."

Tony snorted. "You would to."

"Yep. Now spill. Who is this she? Your date, I mean." Hands clapped together, Abby bounced on the plush cushions as she waited for his answer.

"He actually. And I'm not telling yet."

"Tony!"

"Finally decided to do something besides eye up my dates, then?"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Tony grinned. "He's hot though. And he likes Italian."

Sticking her tongue out, Abby shook a finger at him. "That was horrible."

"I agree. But Tony's dating aside, what's the plan?"

Eyebrow raised, Tony gave his attention to Jimmy. "What plan? There's nothing we can do to change this."

Sighing, Jimmy shook his head at the lack of sense in them both. Sometimes they totally missed it. "Not that. The party. Their retirement party."

"Shit. We've gotta set one up don't we?" Tony ran a hand through his hair. "Without them knowing."

"Yep! This'll be fun. We just have to figure out where to do it." Fingers fiddling with the tail end of one of her pigtails, Abby looked between Jimmy and Tony. Finally Jimmy jerked his hand, almost raising it but not quite.

"We can have it at one of their places. We all have keys. And they're only there when there isn't a case. It'll all depend on when Jethro retires. If he's caught in a case..." he trailed off.

Tony picked it up. "Then he'll stay on until it's finished and they'll be at Jethro's."

Bobbing her head up and down, Abby chimed in. "And we can set up at Donald's. And if there is no case then they'll be at Donald's and we can use Jethro's house. We could decorate the boat!"

"Nothing permanent, Abby!" both men shouted. Looking from Abby's pouting face to each other, both shrugged and chuckled. She'd never change.

"All right. Nothing permanent." She tapped at her lower lip for a moment. "We forgot."

"Forgot what? We've covered it all," corrected Tony.

"Nuh uh, Tony. Who's telling Tim and Ziva?"

Jimmy looked at Abby and she looked at him before both turned back to Tony, fingers pointing at him, giving him his sentence.

Hands held out in front of him, Tony shook his head emphatically, a frown twisting his features. "Hey, no. Senior agent or not. This is Jethro's business."

Peering at him, Abby pursed her lips. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but then turned to Jimmy. He shrugged then nodded, agreeing to take over. "And that's the reason. Not the issues you three currently have?"

"And are currently going to keep." Gritting his teeth, the brunet agent pushed up off the coffee table and stood. "Look. If Jethro doesn't tell them, I'll step in and give them the situation. But if you want them involved in the party, then I suggest one of you ask because I'll get nothing from them."

Nodding, Jimmy turned to Abby and saw her doing the same. "All right. We'll take care of that part then." He raised an eyebrow at the still tense form of his best friend. "Gonna get back on the couch since you're already up?"

"Yeah, Tony." Abby patted the spot next to her. "Sit back down so Jimmy can put the movie on."

"Fine." Huffing slightly, Tony tossed himself into his corner of the couch. "We crashing here tonight then?"

Smiling, Jimmy confirmed that they'd all be sleeping over before pressing play. The credits of "The Princess Bride" rolled across the scene.

"Again? I knew we shouldn't have let Abby pick."

Laughing at the whine, Jimmy claimed ownership. "Actually, it was my pick."

Snorting, Tony scowled. "Yeah, right. What'd she bribe you with?"

"Imported chocolate."

"Conniving brats, the both of you." Tony hid a smile as the other two laughed at his grousing. This was the good life.

*~*~*

Pressing the close button, Gibbs offered a small smile and wave to Ducky as he crossed through the doors into autopsy. They'd see each other for lunch unless a case was in. Pressing the number for the office staff's floor, he waited, glaring at the doors. Hearing the ping that announced his arrival, Gibbs strode out the barely open doors and glanced around the floor layout. He wanted the girl Tony had commented on, the one who was known for pretending the non-existence of gossiping co-workers. Reese. Shriek. Shrise was it. Grabbing a passing clerk, he waited for the boy to look up from the floor. "Where's Shrise?"

"Straight ahead. Just listen for the cat fight. She's bitching out Laura again for passing out rumors."

Giving a nod, Gibbs strode off listening for the fight. It wasn't all that audible, but it was loud enough through the shut door of the office to catch his attention. The door opened and a curly-headed brunet scuttled out, shoulders hunched. Ignoring her, he strode in and pulled the door shut behind him. "Miss Shrise."

Chestnut braid flying, Sharon looked up at the agent who made an elevator ride impossible every morning. "Agent Gibbs." Staring at the tense man in front of her, she stood up and came out from behind her desk. "How may I help you?"

"I find myself in need of some advice."

"What kind? Yours and your team's paperwork is always on time and correctly done." She smiled slightly. "A fact I'm grateful for by the way."

Acknowledging the compliment with a nod, Gibbs helped himself to the seat in front of her desk. Sharon, taking her cues from the Agent, moved to her own seat and motioned for him to continue.

"I find myself in a position where retirement is desired, but there are those who might try to delay my discharge by delaying certain forms."

Pulling herself up in her seat, Sharon rolled back her shoulders. The agency may belong to the agents, but the care of its data was hers and no one broke her system without her permission. "Am I to take it that you would like my advice of how to prevent such delays?"

"Precisely."

Smirking, Sharon interlaced her fingers and rested her wrists on the edge of her desk. "It's a simple matter, really. One I'm sure we can work out. Why, retirement is rather quick actually. All it takes is the processing of the forms into the system. Technically there's no need for an actual notice of intent, though it is considered polite to provide one."

Relaxing into the chair, Gibbs offered a tight smile, his gaze hard. "I'm not much for politeness at the moment."

"Understandable. And really, if such forms were to appear in my inbox, I'd be honor bound to see them entered into the system. After all, it's not my place to enforce the manners of the agents. And if one accidentally sent it here instead of through the expected chain of command, well, really. It still needs to be entered. And once that's done all that's left is the last trip out the front door. Amazing how simple it all is, isn't it? And absolutely no trouble for me." She smirked.

A wide smile rewarded her humor. "It seems we have an understanding then."

"Oh yes. One bit of advice though. Vacation is a wonderful thing as is the internet. And really, the latter is all that's needed to submit certain necessary forms." She smiled as he got out of his seat. "And Agent Gibbs, if for some reason there's some other paperwork that needs tending before the accidental delivery, I'll be delighted to handle it."

"One more question, then. Is it possible to submit a two week notice while on vacation?"

"Just as simply and just as rudely as retiring through my Inbox is. Delightful morning, isn't it?"

He nodded. "And I haven't even had my second cup of coffee." Tipping an imagined hat at the seated information specialist, he strode out the door and back to autopsy. Don would be pleased. Lee could retire as soon as his chance came. All he had to do was send their boy on vacation beforehand and all of them would be safely out of here.

*~*~*

Trotting up the backstairs, Gibbs smiled. Abby had been with Don when he'd arrived. They'd both been relieved by the information that getting him and their boy out of the agency could be handled quickly and quietly when they were ready. And he'd managed to catch a case at the same time. A rare grin stole across his face as he listened to Abby imitate him as she tried to get the team up and out. She'd given them plenty of information. Just not the one bit that would get them out the door. Striding through the doorway and into his team's section, he issued his orders. "You heard the lady. Gear up." Expecting them to obey, he grabbed his jacket, listening to Abby's commentary.

Recovering from the sip of Gibbs' coffee, Abby watched the team hop to it as soon as their boss spoke. Shaking her head sadly, she continued the mock-game. "They only listen to their master, Gibbs. Only you can crack the whip. Only you can drink the swill."

Grabbing the extended cup of coffee, Gibbs headed for the elevator.

Hooking his gun to his belt, Tony watched the by-play and added his own commentary. "It's only a gun on a Navy base, boss."

"There's brain matter on the barrel, Dinozzo. Someone shot somebody in the head with that gun." Shrugging on the jacket, Gibbs headed for the elevator and Davíd and McGee.

Slinging on his backpack, Tony offered one last quip in the game before rushing to join the others. "You left that part out, Abby." Nodding to his boss, he stepped into the elevator.

Striking the main floor button, Gibbs tossed the truck keys towards Dinozzo. "Take the truck. Davíd. McGee. With me."

Shrugging off the questioning looks from his fellow agents, Tony headed for the parking lot as soon as the doors opened. "Good luck," he threw back over his shoulder, though to whom he wasn't sure. This was strictly Gibbs' business.

Leading the rest of his team to the car, Gibbs took the driver's seat and waited for McGee and Davíd to get in before peeling out of the parking lot.

McGee looked between Ziva and Gibbs and the outside window. The scenery wasn't passing by at its normal blistering pace. At this rate, Tony would get there before them. And speaking of Tony, he'd had them play defense brigade on Abby's orders. And there'd never been the explanation of why. And now he wasn't there. Licking his lips, he settled his hands in his lap. "Boss?"

"Yeah?" Gibbs switched lanes with a jerk.

"Did something happen today?"

"Yesterday, McGee."

Grimacing, Ziva turned sideways in the front seat so she could better confront Gibbs. "Yes. Yesterday. Why did we need to guard while Tony and Abby 'goofed off'?"

"They were doing what needed done, Davíd. Just like you did."

"Yes, but..." McGee paused and straightened in his seat. "_Why_ did it need doing?"

Gibbs scowled, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "Vance forced Ducky to retire. He's out of the office as of April 30th."

Separated though they were by the front seat, both Ziva and Tim were shocked. Out of everything they hadn't expected this. Pulling himself into the gap between the two front seats, Tim tried to get a better look at Gibbs' face, but he was serious. "But that's not fair, to either of you. What are you going to do?"

Turning in his seat, Gibbs ignored the road to stare down his curious agent. "Build a boat with, Donald. What did you _think_ I was going to do? Play his games? I'm retiring, McGee."

Ziva was the first to regain her composure after that announcement. "Will Tony be leading the team?"

"No. He's got his own plans. Right now this case is part of them." Gibbs hit the accelerator, speeding up to his normal pace. Silence fell in the car as everyone became lost in their thoughts.

Gibbs pulled up to the neighborhood just as Dinozzo turned off the engine. Shutting down the engine, he climbed out of the car and stalked towards the front door of the house, leaving his agents to catch up.

Tony caught sight of the downcast features of his teammates. "He told you then?"

Nodding, Tim looked up, his misery obvious. "He's leaving."

Ziva nodded her agreement, tight-lipped and angry. "It is Vance's fault."

Nodding, Tony loped up the walkway as the other two followed. "You're both right. But...just don't look at it like he's leaving. If they'd been left alone and allowed to keep working together, Gibbs and Ducky would've died in this job. They're leaving the job, not the team." He paused at the last step to catch his breath as Gibbs raised his hand to knock. "Team dinner's two Saturdays from now. Don't miss."

Stepping up behind Gibbs, all three were grim as the door opened.

"Hi. NCIS Special Agent Gibbs. Mrs. Taffet?

The woman who'd opened the door nodded. "Yes."

Confirmation received, Gibbs got to the point. "We need to speak to your son, Noah, about the gun he found."

"Yes, of course. Come. Come on in." Worry plain, she waved them in as her daughter left.

Walking through the freely opened door, they settled into the distraction of the case. There were answers to find and these answers they could do something about.

*~*~*

Careful of the dish he carried, Jimmy eased his way through the unlocked door of Donald's house. The case with the boy and the gun had been finished, not in time for a Saturday dinner. But Sunday was close enough. "Jethro? Donald? I've got the beans."

"In the kitchen, Jimmy," was yelled in reply by Jethro's gruff voice.

Tripping through the pack of excited corgis, Jimmy made his way through the entryway and into the kitchen. Jethro was picking the meat for the barbecue out of the pot it'd spent the morning boiling in and getting it ready for the grill. Smiling, he set the warm bowl of baked beans next to the stove. He'd have to put them in the oven to keep warm, but that could wait till Jethro was done. Turning to the cupboards, he began pulling down glasses for their drinks. "Donald's with the grill?"

Smiling, Jethro plunked the last piece of meat on the plate he was holding. "Yep. Gettin' it hot. We made the sauce earlier."

Looking over his shoulder, Jimmy caught sight of the smirk on Jethro's face. "Please tell me you used your recipe. Donald's an amazing cook." Turning away to collect the silverware, he continued, amusement creeping into his voice. "He just can't cook American food. At all."

"Brat. Of course it's my recipe." Snatching up a spoon he'd left on the counter earlier, Jethro pushed back the foil covering the beans and snitched a spoonful.

Softly tsking, Donald walked in from the back door. "Really, mi amant. You're going to ruin your dinner." Reaching around his lover, he tugged the empty spoon from his lax grip. Keeping a hand on Leroy's waist, he turned to Jimmy while pointing with the bean-stained spoon. "And for your information, Jimmy, I cook American food perfectly well. I just leave out the grease you Yanks are so fond of."

Laughing, Leroy gently nudged him aside with an elbow so he could carry the meat out to the grill and the waiting bowl of sauce. "But that's what makes it American, Duck."

"Uncultured oaf. Off with you." Shooing him out the door, Don waited until it creaked closed before using the spoon to snatch his own bite.

"Donald!"

"Parent's prerogative, my boy. We must taste everything. Leroy on the other hand would eat the whole dish and forgo cooking the rest of our meal or burn it."

Grinning, Jimmy conceded. It'd happened that way last month when he'd gotten his hands on Abby's cobbler. "It was good take-out though."

"Hmm, well, yes." Tossing the spoon into the sink, Donald set to work clearing out the dishes that had been used and placing them in the dishwater. "You're doing well with everything? I'm afraid with the case and all, we didn't get to check in as much as we would have liked. The office is not the most secure of places at the moment."

Shrugging, Jimmy separated out the forks, spoons, and knives in order to wrap them in the oversized napkins they used on barbecue days. "The important things aren't changing. The rest is doable."

"An admirable outlook. Just don't forget we're here and all will be well."

"You and Jethro are unforgettable."

"Tony, my boy, there you are."

"And me!" Abby popped out from behind, two covered dishes in hand. "I've brought the yummy green veggies. Peas and asparagus." She eased them onto the counter next to Jimmy's beans.

"And I've brought dessert. Homemade chocolate cake. And no, Abby. It's not from Betty Crocker."

Eyes wide, she pointed at herself. "Who me? Really Tony...I wouldn't think that of you. The apron would clash."

Clapping his hands and sending water spraying the counter, Donald called them to order. "Enough of that you two. Abby, dishes in the oven. Tony, ice in the glasses please. And Jimmy, why don't you keep Jethro company at the grill once you've carried the silverware out?" Various assertions of agreement came from the three as they settled into their tasks. Hiding an amused smile, Donald went back to transferring the dishes to the washer. They'd be eating within the hour.

*~*~*

Grabbing his phone on the first ring, Leroy flipped it open before it could disturb Donald. "Gibbs."

"Oi, Gibbs. How about that favor you owe me?"

Scowling at the sound of the voice on the other end, Gibbs memorized the provided information. No wasn't an option. At least this way it'd be used under the backing of NCIS even if the department didn't know it was providing him with a safety net. Easing out of the bed, he began to get dressed.

"Lee?" floated softly from the bed.

Sitting back down on the edge, Leroy smoothed out the rumpled hair. "Mornin'"

"Where the devil are you going? It's not time to get up for work."

Eyes downcast, the silver-haired agent answered. "Kort's calling in his favor."

"The favor you incurred because of me." The tone was soft with an underlying touch of guilt.

Scowling, Leroy nodded. Despite claims to the contrary, his lover hated mentions of the incident. "Yes. Yes, I owe him because I damn well love you enough to defend you no matter what it takes. And there is nothing wrong with that," he ground out.

Raising a hand to lightly stroke the tense jaw, Don raised himself up for a short kiss. Breaking it, he stared into the steady gaze of his lover. "I never said there was, Lee. I simply wish it hadn't been necessary." Sitting the rest of the way up, he eased himself out of bed. "Now off with you. I'll see you at the office so I can deal with my end of the issue."

"Don, this isn't your problem. I acquired the favor."

Don placed a quick kiss on Leroy's nose before turning to his half of the dresser. "And that, mi amant, is where you are quite wrong. This favor was 'acquired' as you say in order to protect me. Therefore it is my place to help in its fulfillment. Even if only so that I may confer my dubious protection on you."

Grabbing up his own clothes, Lee finished getting dressed. After tucking his shirt in, he turned away from the mirror to face his lover. He reached out and gripped his lover's slight wrist before pulling him into his side for their traditional morning kiss. "I'll call in as soon as I know what's going on."

Don let his head relax and fall against Lee's shoulder as he fiddled with the top button. "I'll be waiting."

*~*~*


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**: For the Duck Pt. 3  
**Author**: Saharra Shadow

**Email**: nightwing_

**Disclaimer:** Except for the orig characters they're not mine, but they did join me for a play date.

**Character(s)**: Dr. Donald Mallard, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Anthony Dinozzo, Abby Sciuto, Jimmy Palmer, Ziva Davd, Timothy McGee, Leon Vance, and mentions NCIS LA team, specifically Agent Clara Macy and G (_I dubbed him Garrett for the purposes of this fic and any subsequent stories_) Callan

**Named Original Characters:** Agent Alec Frenz, Sharon Shrise, Chris, and Phina.

**Pairings:** Gibbs/Ducky, Tony/??  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Word-count**: 5,285/18,091 words.

Part 3

Relaxed, Gibbs fiddled with the pencil he'd grabbed as Vance continued venting his displeasure.

"I want to know who told him. Maybe we should start with your buddy Kort."

"He's not my buddy."

"Coulda fooled me." Vance paused for effect, obviously sure that he had information Gibbs was lacking. "I made some phone calls. Trent Kort's been benched. Siravo hasn't been on the CIA's radar in six months." He jerked his chin, emphasizing his point. "What's Kort doing digging around in the trash?"

Gibbs stared back calmly, offering an unruffled smile. "He's got his uses."

Vance perched on the edge of his desk, smiling knowingly. "Kort gave you my file."

Offering nothing but a slight shake of his head and bland response, the silver haired agent dodged the implication. "I'm only concerned about Siravo." The verbal fencing was proving amusing...and dangerous. He definitely couldn't have stayed with Vance suspecting he had his file.  
Abandoning that line of questioning, Vance moved onward. It hadn't been a confirmation, but it hadn't been a denial either. "What's Kort interested in?"

"God...and country." With a low voice, Gibbs gestured up on God and gave a nod to country. He could play the game. He just preferred not to.

The Director jerked his head up with a humph. "Trent Kort shows up bearing gifts. I want to know what's in it for him."

Gibbs put his pencils on the desk and got up. This meeting was going nowhere. With his back turned, he offered one last comment on the subject. "Trent Kort does not gain anything by leaking information, Leon."

"Then I want to know who does."

Hand on the handle, Gibbs gave him the attention he wanted.

"Find the leak. Find Siravo. I want the CIA out of my house."

Pulling the door shut behind him, Gibbs shook his head. Vance was agitated and antsy. His control had been challenged and he wasn't happy about it. But it had been worth it. The debt would be paid and his honor cleared soon.

*~*~*

The ringing of his phone only added to Gibbs irritation as he pulled into the parking lot of NCIS. "Gibbs."

"Jethro."

"Fornell."

"So Dinutso's leaving you for me. What'd he do?"

"He's a better exchange than my ex-wife was." Gibbs smirked. "Said you were his kind of bastard. And I'm retiring."

"Retiring? Jethro, what's going on?"

"Vance decided to include Donald in his games. I decided I'd end the game."

"By removing the players."

"Yep." Gibbs listened to the increase of static as the phone was shuffled around, probably into a better hold.

"I take it this isn't actual knowledge?"

"Except to my people, no."

A snort. "Good to know I count, Gibbs."

"You know you do, Tobias. Now why'd you call? You woulda hung up already if it was just Dinozzo."

"You wound me, Jethro. To think I'd be so unappreciative of your conversation skills."

Scowling, Gibbs glared at the phone before putting it back to his ear. "Tobias."

"Fine." Tobias paused, silence filling the line. He was far enough away that Gibbs couldn't shoot him. That didn't mean he'd be safe afterwards. He chuffed slightly, but it'd be worse if he didn't say a thing. "Abby's been requested."

"By who, Fornell?" A barking demand.

"I don't know. The FBI just has orders to transport her. I called as soon as I found out. Anymore than that, you'll have to find out."

Shrugging, Gibbs nodded. That was expected. "Tobias."

"Tell Dinozzo I want him at his new desk six weeks from your release." A dial tone rang over the line.

Snapping his own phone shut, Gibbs headed into the building. He hit the floor for personnel in the elevator. It would be best to give Shrise a heads up about Dinozzo's upcoming vacation complete with two-week notice. Odd how he seemed to be heading off to his vacation the day before his boss retires. A satisfied smirk settled over his features. Odd indeed. With that done, he could find out what his team had learned about the barefoot body and check in with his girl.

Dodging past harried office workers, Gibbs slipped into Shrise's office and shut the door with a soft snick. She was alone this time except for a pile of files and a cup of coffee. "Shrise."

She jerked the pages of the file she'd been reading scattered across her desk. A few pages tipped off of the front edge and drifted to the floor. "Gibbs. I take it the door was padded and prevented knocking."

The Special Agent shrugged before offering the fallen pages he'd picked up. "Something like that."

"Ah well. What's up then? Figured out the dates I need to keep track of?"

"Time span. I need my retirement to go through after this case I just picked up."

"Gossip's good for something." Shrise waved at the group clustered together across the hall. "I'll know within the hour when you're done. I imagine I'll have some files that need attention at the time." The edges of her mouth curled into a smile. "Sadly, that means I'll be here rather late."

"Late enough to take care of something else as well?" Gibbs sat down with his elbows resting on the desk.

"Easily, so long as it's only rude and not illegal. I did forget that little proviso last time." Shrise shrugged. "It happens."

"True." He sat back in the chair, limbs relaxed. "I need Anthony Dinozzo's vacation time to go through with a time-delayed two week notice that activates half-way through his four week vacation."

One groomed eyebrow rose as she asked wryly, "He has that much leave?"

Cracking a half smile, Gibbs shrugged. "Mostly paid, too." He paused as his gaze narrowed. "That activates before my retirement goes through."

Shrise sighed while tugging on the tail-end of her braid. "And here I was thinking you were finally going to ask for something hard. Done and Done." Dropping her braid, she took up her cup and took a sip. "Consider it thanks for the existence of decent coffee. According to Phina you made it a necessity."

Gibbs' satisfied grin transformed into a smirk at the comment. "Consider its continued existence a 'you're welcome' then."

"I will." Shrise offered a salute with the cup.

Gibbs pushed himself out of the chair before turning back, his amusement gone. "One last thing."

"Yes?"

"What's the real reason?"

Shrise smiled sadly. "I knew a man who'd give everything to protect his own. Or at least be there for them. You remind me of him and I think such honor should be rewarded." A mischievous grin replaced the smile and she winked. "Or it could always be the simple fact that Vance and his tendency to treat people as chess pieces annoy me."

Her snipe at the director drew a chuckle from Gibbs. "Who was the man?"

"My Grandfather." Shrise flicked her hand at the door. "Now shoo. I'll keep my eye out and you keep the paperwork handy."

*~*~*

Gibbs shook his head. Sweet tooth she may have, but their Abby took care of her teeth. Declared the time devoted to cleaning was the exchange rate for regular caffpows. "No. Fornell just called. Abby's been...requested."

Tony echoed him. "Requested?"

Ziva frowned, perplexed. The answer was too pat and 'skinny' so to speak. "By?"

"He didn't know. Just that the FBI has orders to transport her." The boss that he was, Gibbs watched as the lack of information made itself known to his agents. He'd trained them well.

Hands already reaching for the keyboard, Tim headed for his desk. "Okay, I can access the FBI operations database."

Ziva was on the offensive, ready to strike and defend. She and Abby had had a rough start, but a few hours over a makeshift jigsaw puzzle and exorbitant amounts of caffeine had settled that matter. She turned to Gibbs, digging a finger into his shoulder to emphasize her agitation. "I have a contact at the DOD."

Tony, the most senior field agent of the three had his hand reaching for the phone on his desk. "Bolo out on the FBI transport?"

Shaking his head at the lot of them, Gibbs flipped open his phone. And yet they still hadn't learned everything they could. But it was a start. "I don't know. I thought maybe I'd just try calling first." Someone else would get to finish it. And he could consider that later, once they'd worked out what trouble their most curious member had gotten in to.

"Hey Gibbs, Don't worry. No cavities. I was gonna call."

Silent, he left the main room for the privacy offered by the overhang of the stairs off from the room. "Fornell already did. You okay?"

"Yep."

Gibbs could hear it, the enthusiasm for the adventure. She wasn't worried yet. He was. "Where are you?"

"In the back of a van."

Turning on his heel, he started another round of pacing. Her amusement wasn't helping. "Abby."

"I'm fine. It's exciting. Group of FBI agents swoops in and steals away an unsuspecting citizen to places unknown." Her voice over the phone took on the tone of a late-night black and white horror movie announcer.

The edge of the stairs appeared on the edge of his vision and he turned, aiming for the wall under the stairs again. "Yeah. It's the unknown part I don't care for."

"Oh. I got Palmer's text about the vampire bite. I can't believe I'm not going to be there for that. Who are you getting to fill in?"

Gibbs bit back a sigh at her nonchalance as he once again found himself running out of space and having to turn in the direction of the bullpen. "Working on it."

"Well if you need anything before then I keep a step-by-step Abby's Lab for Dummies in my desk. It covers the basics. A monkey could follow the instructions."

Edging into view of the pen, he caught sight of Tony and his reclaimed backscratcher. Amused despite himself, Gibbs offered up a quick quip that was sure to entertain Abby. "Good. 'Cause we got one of those."

*~*~*

Hiding in the shadows outside of Abby's lab, Gibbs waited for Tony. McGee would be there soon and he wanted a word with his Senior Field Agent. At the sound of Tony's familiar footsteps, he stepped out with his hand swinging up and catching him on the back of the head. "Dinozzo."

"Ow. Hard much?" Head tipping forward, Tony hid his green eyes from Gibbs. They always gave him away. "In trouble, am I?"

"No. Just warned." Striding forward, Gibbs shouldered up against his agent. "I just told Fornell you're his. Don't make me regret it because you're too damn stubborn to drop the act."

Hair falling out of place, Tony jerked his head up, green eyes wide. Tony held his boss' gaze before giving in and nodding his acquiescence. He'd control the act.

Satisfied, Gibbs offered a brief smile before turning and stalking off. "Stay safe, Tony," floated back over his shoulder.

*~*~*

Curled in the corner of Gibb's couch, Abby chatted with Ziva while they waited for Tony and Tim to arrive. Jimmy was in the kitchen helping Ducky with the dessert he'd baked which Jethro had snitched ingredients from.

"I just can't believe I fell for it. The whole…" She waved her hand in the air before plopping it on her knees and setting her chin atop it. "Innocent, sick-person deal. I'm an NCIS employee. I should know better than that!"

Shaking her head, Ziva raised a hand palm out for silence. "If you did, then you wouldn't be our Abby who looks for the best in the people around her and doesn't give up on an answer until she finds it or creates something to help herself find it." The sound of bags rustling in the entryway caused her to pause.

Tony and Tim were standing there, take-out bags in hand as they nodded their agreement. Casting a sideways glance at Tony, Tim began speaking when he realized that the floor was being left to him. That is one thing that he liked about these dinners. Tony was a lot better behaved under Gibbs' roof than he was in the field. "They didn't give you the whole truth and without it there was no reason for you to think anything but the conclusion you came to. You did nothing wrong, Abby."

"I guess. But I don't have to like it." Abby sighed before leaning closer to Tony and the back of the couch when he reached over and ruffled her hair.

"Gibbs put it to rights, Abbs. He caught 'em and you know that no one who hurts his gets away with it. Besides, if you hadn't been your curious, friendly self, then the FBI would have let a domestic terrorist get off scott free, yeah?"

"Dumb Fibbies," Abby muttered. "You better not lose your IQ over there Tony. I'll be watching you and I have tests ready, mister." She grinned up at him while shaking a finger in his face.

"Shouldn't he be taking those already? His reading material alone is enough to do it," quipped McGee, a pleased smile flashing across his face as he managed to get one of his rare digs in.

Glancing from one to the other, Ziva's brow creased in confusion. "I do not understand, Abby. What would the FBI being dumb have to do with Tony's loss of intelligence?"

Eyes widening, Abby glanced up at Tony apologetically. "Oops."

A bellow from the kitchen distracted Ziva and Tim now that he'd caught on that something besides a joke was up. "McGee. Dinozzo. Quit the chatter and get that food in here while it's still hot. Ziva. Abby. Gossip hour's over."

"Coming, Boss," they replied in stereo. Ziva and McGee hurried off into the dining room while Abby and Tony hung back for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Tony." The pig-tailed scientist sidled up to him and gave him a hug. "And McGee shouldn't have said that."

"Yeah, well." Patting Abby's head, Tony flashed her a quick smile. "Don't worry about it. They would have picked it up soon enough." Keeping an arm about her shoulders, he guided them into the kitchen and right into Ziva's continued line of questioning.

"Gibbs, why would Abby think Tony would be close enough to the FBI to find his intelligence threatened by their lack of skill?"

Eyebrow raised, Gibbs stared at the object of the discussion, asking permission. Dipping his head, Tony gave him permission to let the rest of the group know what was going on. Addressing Ziva and Tim, Gibbs gave them the answer. "He's accepted the position Fornell keeps offering. He's due at work six weeks after I let him go." He flicked a finger in Tony's direction. "He'll be leaving shortly before I retire and he won't be coming back."

Spooning up some of the fajita dish Tim had picked up, Tony pointed down at the table and its food. "Ziva, McProbie. Just sit down and eat. It's not that big a deal."

Adding in his piece, Ducky waved everyone into their seats. "Timothy, how is your next book going?"

*~*~*

Gibbs lowered his head, Abby's last words, while so softly spoken he shouldn't have heard but he did, floated in his head. "Just make sure you bring yourself back too." Leaning against the elevator archway, he slowly released a breath. "I will Abbs. It's too close not to."

The door dinged as it opened. Walking in, he punched the number for Autopsy. Two days until Ducky retired and he wouldn't be there for it. Vance's voice sliding through the autopsy door pulled him up short.

"Your forms arrived. I appreciate the timeliness."

Don was agitated, his answer short and to the point. "Just as I appreciate your need to come down here in person to tell me so, Leon."

Gibbs leaned against the doorjamb, listening. Vance's tone was clipped. "I'll be holding onto them until the end of this case. Dr. Jackson will be taking over at that point." Silence from Donald. Pushing away from the wall, Gibbs stepped in front of the door and waited.

"Agent Gibbs."

"Director." Stance relaxed, Gibbs looked Vance up and down before pushing past him and into autopsy. "Duck."

"Jethro." Ducky kept on eye on Vance's progress as he headed towards the elevator and got in. "You heard then."

"Yep, seems we're walking out the door at the same time after all, Don." He threw out a grin.

Donald answered with a smile as he walked over to his computer and sat in his chair. "You're heading to LA then."

"I'll be back, Don." Stepping up behind his seated lover, Lee cupped the side of his throat with one warm hand and slid the thumb up and down the back of Don's neck. "And I'll check in on our wandering son while we're there and let him know the situation."

"Garrett? Or Callan. Whatever he's going by these days."

A laugh rumbled up through him. "Yes, the chameleon. Callan at the moment."

"Yes, well." Don reached up with a shaking hand and clasped Lee's for a moment. "Just remind him I expect everyone home for the fourth. Including him and your Father, Leroy. "

"Will do, Don. Will do."

*~*~*

Tony watched as Abby, cupcake in hand, dragged McGee to the elevator. Once they were gone, he walked over to Gibbs' desk and perched on the edge. "Rivkin's with Ziva."

"I know, Tony. I know."

"He's dangerous."

He jotted one more signature on a line. "And you're officially on vacation for four weeks."

"With a two week notice starting in two weeks."

"Correct, Tony." Nudging the knee on his desk with an elbow, Jethro offered a sympathetic grimace. "We have no authority as of five minutes from now. Shrise has our papers. She stayed to process them before morning."

"And for that five minutes?"

"You worry. And then you do nothing. Do not confront him. Go to Abby's or Jimmy's, but stay out of it, Tony." He met the worried gaze head on and stared him down till he got a nod of consent. "That's a direct order."

"Fine."

"Your word."

"My word on it." Tony scowled before hitting the desk. "I don't have to like it, right?"

"Nope. Just obey it."

Silence settled around them as Tony watched Jethro finish his report and sign off on the rest of the teams. This was the last time both of them would do this at any NCIS headquarters. Fingers tapping the edge, he asked "How's G doing?"

"Fine. Driving his handler spare."

Smoothing back his brunet mop, Tony chuckled. "Sounds like him. How'd he take it?"

"Told us to have fun and give retirement hell." The soon to be retired agent grunted, stabbing one finger at a stubborn key. "He'll be here this year for the fourth, assignments willing."

"Cool. Be good to see him again." Tony shrugged. "He's not a musketeer, but he's family."

A soft smile from Jethro and a brief nod gave his agreement.

The quiet, familiar shuffle of Ducky soft shoes filled the silence after a while.

"Are you finished, Lee? Tony?"

Tony looked up from Jethro's screen and offered him a wan smile. "Almost, Donald. It's the last you know."

Donald dipped his head in acknowledgment of that fact. It was a night of lasts. "But it's also a night of firsts. Shouldn't we begin?"

A soft chuckle floated from Jethro as he pushed away from his desk and slowly shut down the computer. "Yeah, Duck, we should." He nodded at the elevator. "One last conference?"

"I'd be delighted, mi amant."

Tony waved them off with a grin. "Go on. I've got one last thing to grab. I forgot to move it with everything else."

"Goodnight then, Tony."

Gibbs threw a wave over his shoulder as he cupped Donald's elbow and escorted him to the elevator.

Once the doors were closed, Tony stepped over to his desk and unlocked the bottom drawer and revealed the box within. He'd kept hold of these medals for years. Kept them there in that drawer. Maybe now they could go to the one who'd earned them. If not, well, maybe it was finally time for them to be displayed. Even if it wasn't under the roof of the one who'd earned them. A name plaque would make sure no one was mistaken.

Tucking the box under his arm, he trotted for the staircase. Those two would be a while and thanks to Abby, he had somewhere to be.

*~*~*

With their goodnights tossed between them and Tony, Don turned his attention to Lee and the recent visit to Los Angeles. "How did it go?"

Leroy shrugged. "Garrett's fine. He'll be here if he can. Wants us to give retirement hell."

"And the rest, Leroy? I know who Macy is to you. You mentioned her that night you got drunk and finally informed me of the entire tale." Don's grip tightened, more a hold to keep Lee there than the mildly possessive touch Don normally used.

"Was, Don. Who she was. We settled it."

Eyes closing in relief, he let Lee guide them into the open elevator. There truly were no loose ends left to tie when it came to the job or at least not important ones. Calming himself, he settled his weight against his lover and reached around Leroy to flip the emergency stop switch. He raised a hand and stroked Lee's bristle-brush hair. "Do you think you might let this grow?"

"You going to wash it?" Lee leaned back against the wall of the elevator as his hand trailed down Don's side to rest at his waist.

"It would be my utmost pleasure." Fingers trailing down the line of the haircut, the newly retired coroner traced the edge of an ear. Up and down, his touch barely more than a feathering of sensation.

"Hmm." Lee let his head hit the side of the elevator with a thunk. Despite what he'd inferred to McGee, he hadn't slept well on the plane ride. He'd just done a damn good job of pretending so.

"Following asleep on me, Leroy?"

"Heading that way if you keep that up," Lee muttered, letting his eyes close.

Soft, slightly chapped lips pressed a gentle kiss to each closed lid as Don allowed himself to lean his full weight against Lee. Just for a moment while the wall propped them both up. He'd come home this time. Everyone had. "Will you miss it?"

"Not enough to come back here." Lee nestled his cheek against Don's. "Besides we're young enough. We can consult, do part-time. Soon to be 51 and 57 isn't bad. We'll manage."

"And I thought I was the optimist of this pair."

"Only most of the time. Occasionally even you need a pick-me-up." Blue eyes laughing, Leroy wrapped his arms about his Don and pulled him closer, turning their resting position into a full-out hug. "Otherwise, what use would you have for me?"

"Oh, I can think of a thing or two." Don winked before flashing a cheeky smile.

Leroy laughed long and loud. There was no reason to be quiet anymore. "I'll hold you to that once we're out of here and in my bed."

"Your bed, Jethro?" Don raised an eyebrow, more a teasing than a warning.

"Our bed. My house. It's closer."

"An argument I have never before been so pleased to lose then." Freeing one hand from their embrace, Donald restarted the elevator and let it continue on to the main lobby. They had one last thing to do.

Easing out of their embrace, they stood side by side in front of the elevator doors as they opened. Together they strode out into the lobby and through the security check point for the last time as employees of NCIS.

*~*~*

Bags of decorations in hand, McGee dragged himself through the door which Abby in her construction hat was holding open. "Why do we have to do this now? I just got back from that case with Gibbs. I haven't even got any sleep, Abby."

From his position on a nearby ladder, Tony poked fun while providing an answer. "Because McProbie, Gibbs and Ducky are still at Gibbs' house. We can decorate without them knowing and it's close enough to the end of the case neither will suspect anything."

Taking a break from blowing up the blue and green balloons, Jimmy added his two cents. "That and Abby addressed the invites as 'First Saturday night after the case.' Which is tomorrow."

He was outdone three ways. "Fine." Setting down the bags of balloons, tablecloths, silverware, and dining ware, McGee looked around. Something was missing. "Where's Ziva?"

Tony's shoulders hunched slightly as he stiffened. His voice was calm though when he answered. "She had something to do tonight, but she promised to provide all the refreshments and one of the main dishes in order to make up for it."

"Oh, okay." Staring at the bags and all the work they meant, McGee turned to Abby who was nearly bouncing in place. "All right, Abby. What's my job?"

"Tables! And streamers!" She pointed across the room to where one table was already dressed in the dining room turned party room. The dark blue table cloth was draped neatly over the frame with a forest green streamer was looped around the edge and a candle shaped like a boat sat in the center. "They all have to look like that, well except for the candles. We have corgi and golf ball candles too, so you can alternate. They're over there." She waved at an oversized table in the corner that a bunch of wax figurines were clustered on. "Just don't move them. Jimmy put them in place after he and Tony moved out all the furniture. And Tony is in charge of making and hanging the balloon chandeliers that go above them."

Sighing, Tim smiled as he grabbed the first cloth out of the bag and walked over to the closest table. "And what are you doing?"

Grinning, Abby shoved her face into his space. "I'm supervising, Timmy."

*~*~*

Sipping his punch, Donald admired the party centered around him and Jethro. Their musketeers and the rest of the team had rather outdone themselves. The streamers and balloons were...organized despite their abundance. And the candles were worth a laugh. Leroy had already confiscated one of the sailboats. Various coroners he'd met and befriended over the years were in attendance. Gerald had come and he'd wished him luck in his new position. The majority of their fellow agents they were on good terms with had popped in to say Hi. Even Dwayne, the team's Probie, was there. Small gifts to be opened at a later date were piled high on a back table. For an event they'd been expecting, it was quite the surprise.

Abby's strident squeal caught their attention and making their excuses to the friends they'd been speaking with, Donald followed Leroy as he plowed through the crowd to investigate the matter. The chance of danger was slim, but when their girl let out a squeal of that volume, excitement was never far off. Slipping past the last group of people blocking their view, they were greeted with the sight of a blushing Tony, a laughing Jimmy, and a giddy Abby who was currently glommed onto the side of a lithe, dark-haired, dark-attired young man that looked rather perplexed at his new adornment.

"Abby," Leroy barked out her name, calling her to attention.

She released her previous prey and with a cry of, "Jethro! Donald!", she wrapped the pair of them in a tight hug. "Look who Tony brought! They're dating-dating. The serious dating. Isn't it great?"

"Abby!" Tony and Jimmy both cried.

"What? It's sharable news, not secret news." She released the pair and bounced over to stand with Jimmy.

Sighing, Tony stepped up beside the bemused stranger in their midst and shifted closer as said stranger rested a hand in the center of his back. "Jethro meet Ian Edgerton. Ian Edgerton, this is my...wait. You're not 'Boss'-"

"Dinozzo!"

"Uh, never mind. Ian this is Leroy Jethro Gibbs, The Boss." Motioning over towards Ducky, Tony offered a quick smile. "To his right is Donald Mallard. Donald and Jethro are the patriarchs of our crafty little family."

Stepping forward, Donald elbowed Leroy out of the way and extended his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Now tell me...how did you meet our Tony?"

The two shared a look before Tony answered with a shrug, "Our therapists share a building. We met by accident one day."

Nodding, Ian took up the tale. "And we just kept meeting up until it was no longer an accident. And then he asked me out. And later I asked that we make a relationship of it, so he brought me to meet his family." He spared a look at a wildly waving Abby being restrained by Jimmy. "So far it's proved interesting."

Smirking, Leroy moved up beside Donald. "What do you do?"

Cocking his head to the side, Ian returned smirk for smirk. "I'm an FBI sniper."

Gibbs nodded. It was a respectable field. A hard elbow in the ribs from Don had him extending the expected ultimatum. "We'll expect you at the family dinners from now on." Approval would be decided by the outcome of those meetings.

Smiling wryly, Ian nodded his acceptance. He could deal with that. "So long as I'm in town, I'll be there with Tony."

Nudging his date, Tony took back the conversation. "We may not be able to make next week's. Ian has some downtime coming and since I'm already on vacation we were thinking of heading off for a few days." He looked back over his shoulder. "And no, Jimmy. Where hasn't been decided yet. And Abby, you can't come." He smiled to take the sting out of the words.

Soft, rolling chuckles filled the bit of silence that fell after that remark. Reaching out to pat his boy's young man on the shoulder, Donald smiled warmly at the pair. He'd let Jethro play the role of over-protective father at the moment and take on the one of proud instead. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Ian. For now, I believe I'll give you respite from Jethro's suspicions." With a wink, he turned to Abby and Jimmy. "Abigail, I believe it's time to cut that decidedly red cake currently taking up the bulk of that back table." Waving her off, he coaxed Jimmy closer while grabbing hold of Leroy's wrist. "Jimmy, provide Lee with a proper knife, if you could. Leroy, smile. These people like you. And Tony, enjoy your date." Sighing, he looked at the empty table beside them. The drink he'd sat down when Lee drew breath to shout at Abby was gone. "And I shall endeavor to acquire another glass of that punch before finding Timothy and Ziva."

A pair of hands on his waist drew him back against a hard chest. "I do love your ability to organize, Don." One hand rose and tipped his chin up as soft lips moved in for a kiss. He relaxed into the hold and opened to Lee's questing mouth. When the kiss broke and they separated, he opened his eyes to find Lee there, a soft, contented smile on his face. "Happy retirement," was whispered against their still parted lips.

"Indeed." Don tapped his lover on the nose. "You still have to cut the cake."

The End. (Till the side-fics hatch.)


End file.
